


The Big Sleep: Perchance to Dream

by XxmerthurcatxX



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale is a Mess (Good Omens), First Kiss, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, i love that that has a specific tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:47:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24206923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxmerthurcatxX/pseuds/XxmerthurcatxX
Summary: In which Crowley takes a lot of naps, Aziraphale is sad about it, and no one finishes their sentences.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 178





	1. Chapter 1

_ “Right...I’m setting the alarm clock for July. Goodnight, angel.” _

The words were still ringing in Aziraphale’s ears long after he had disconnected the call. Three hours and he hadn’t so much as moved an inch from where he was seated at his desk. He was staring blankly at the stack of books in front of him, waiting to be read. For the first time since the invention of the written word, Aziraphale found that he wasn’t in the mood to read. Something about Crowley’s words had left him in a right state of melancholy. But why? He broke down the words in his head. 

“ _ Right. _ ” 

Something Crowley said often when he didn’t enjoy the outcome of something. Usually drawled and punctuated with an annoyed eye roll. But not this time. This time it was far too reminiscent of another time, not so long ago, when Aziraphale had told him that they weren’t on their own side. That their arrangement was over and that he would not be running away with the demon. Crowley had stood there for a long moment, nodded, and uttered a soft “right,” before he left Aziraphale behind. The angel felt a familiar pang of guilt. 

_ “I’m setting the alarm clock for July.” _

July wasn’t very far away. Considering the demon’s proclivity for naps that lasted close to a century, a few months was hardly any time at all. So why did the idea of Crowley’s spending lockdown napping make Aziraphale feel so anxious?

_ “Goodnight, Angel.”  _

That was the worst of it. The softness in Crowley’s voice whenever he used the nickname. The hint of fondness that Aziraphale had picked up on centuries ago, but had never known what to do with. 

He knew what to do with it now. At least, he knew what he  _ should _ do. He should tell Crowley that he’s just as fond of him as the demon is for Aziraphale. Then, if Crowley was amenable, Aziraphale would like to spend the rest of eternity making up for being so utterly foolish and pushing the demon away when he wanted to hold him close. But he was terrified that he had missed his chance. After all, he could hardly expect Crowley to wait around for him forever. 

And now Crowley was napping. Crowley was napping and, not for the first time, Aziraphale was miserable. 

**Eden: The First of Many Naps**

Aziraphale was humming softly to himself as he walked through the garden. It was peaceful. Just like it always was. Everything was lush and green and full of life. Adam and Eve were curled under a tree together, sharing pears and grapes. They nodded at Aziraphale as he passed them and he smiled back at them before continuing on his way. 

It was part of his job to survey the garden and make sure everything stayed in tiptop shape, should the Almighty turn her attention to it and be disappointed in what she saw. It was a job Aziraphale took very seriously. Not to mention a job that was made increasingly difficult by the presence of a certain demon. A demon who was currently stretched out on a large rock at the edge of the lake, his eyes closed. 

Aziraphale crept closer. He’d gotten to know the demon Crawly fairly well at this point and he had to say he’d never seen him so relaxed. Normally he slipped around the garden, air of mischief ever present as he leaned against trees and whispered suggestions to the humans, and occasionally the angel, who occupied it. 

Now though, he looked totally at peace. The corners of his lips were almost quirked into a smile, instead of his usual smirk. Aziraphale found himself unable to look away. 

“Hasn’t anyone told you it’s rude to stare?” Crawly drawled, startling the angel from his revelry. 

Aziraphale gathered his bearings quickly. 

“I hardly think I need advice on manners from a demon,” he said. 

Crawly opened one eye to give him an incredulous look before closing it again. He stretched, tucking his arms behind his head and getting comfortable again. Aziraphale frowned. He almost looked like he was--

“Were you _sleeping_?” Aziraphale asked, the realization hitting him suddenly. 

Crawly sighed a very put upon sigh. One that Aziraphale had heard from Eve on several occasions when Adam had woken her up before she was ready. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind now that the demon had in fact been sleeping. And during the day no less. How strange. 

“Was having a nap, yeah,” Crawly said, his eyes still stubbornly closed. 

“A nap?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crawly shrugged. 

“Saw the humans doing it. Always wanted to try sleeping. Now seemed like as good a time as any,” Crawly explained. “S’nice way to pass the time when this all gets a bit boring.” 

Aziraphale nodded. Sleep had always seemed like a waste of time to him. So many hours lost. And the idea of sleeping through the night and missing watching the stars come out seemed ridiculous to the angel. 

“But what about--

Aziraphale cut himself off when he saw that Crawly had drifted off again, snoring softly. Well. Apparently that was the end of their conversation. 

As he continued his daily rounds, Aziraphale tried not to think about the snoozing demon. He would never admit, even to himself, that he enjoyed their little talks. And how annoyed he was that something as silly as a nap, had gotten in the way of one. 

**After the Fight: The Longest Nap**

Aziraphale was pacing back and forth in his bookshop. Feeling anxious wasn’t anything new for him, though he was fairly certain that angels weren’t supposed to feel something as human as anxiety. But there he was, unable to sit still. 

It was Crowley’s fault. 

It was always Crowley’s fault. 

He hadn’t seen the demon since that day in Saint James Park in 1862 when they’d fought about the holy water. Aziraphale shook his head. Ridiculous. He couldn’t believe Crowley would even ask. As if Aziraphale would give him something as dangerous as holy water. Being discorporated was one thing. But holy water would destroy Crowley entirely. He’d simply cease to exist and then Aziraphale would be left alone on Earth and--

He shook his head again. That was a road he shouldn’t--couldn’t--go down. It was too dangerous. For both of them. They were already playing with fire having The Arrangement. Aziraphale couldn’t allow himself to think about any other sort of relationship with the demon aside from a professional one. Still...the idea of being on Earth without Crowley was almost unbearable. 

_ “If they knew I’d been fraternizing...it’s completely out of the question!” _

Aziraphale forced himself to stop pacing and leaned against the nearest bookshelf. He shouldn’t have said that. He should have known it would hurt Crowley’s feelings. Not that the demon would ever admit it. At least not in so many words. The way he spat back the word, “ _ fraternizing _ ,” was more than clear enough. Just because he couldn’t say it out loud, didn’t mean Aziraphale didn’t consider him a friend. More than a friend if--

No! Bad angel. Too dangerous. 

Aziraphale sighed and focused his attention on the problem at hand. He hadn’t seen Crowley in nearly fifty years. Before they’d started The Arrangement, it was normal to go decades, centuries even, without seeing each other. But once they’d started working together, regular meet ups were necessary. Aziraphale couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone this long without seeing the demon. 

He tried to tell himself that Crowley was avoiding him on purpose, because as much as it hurt, that was preferable to something being wrong. But there was a lingering feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. It was the same thought that had plagued the both of them for years; what if they find out? There’s no telling what Hell, or Heaven for that matter, would do if they knew that Crowley and Aziraphale had been working together for centuries. 

What if they found out? What if the reason he hadn’t seen Crowley in fifty years was because there was no more Crowley? 

With that thought, Aziraphale knew he couldn’t wait any longer. It took a minor miracle, because Aziraphale had never been to Crowley’s flat, but he managed to locate the demon and, for sake of saving time, popped himself right into Crowley’s living room. 

It was a modern looking flat. It matched Crowley’s personality, that was for sure. Aziraphale couldn’t keep a smile off his face when he saw the small collection of houseplants that Crowley had begun collecting. 

The flat was quiet, but Aziraphale didn’t sense any danger. That was a good sign at least. He crept carefully down the hallway, and stopped at a wide open door that led to a large master bedroom. It was clear there was someone sleeping in said bed, buried under a truly obscene number of blankets. That was certainly a comfort, but Aziraphale couldn’t stop himself from moving closer. 

He hadn’t seen Crowley sleep since Eden, though he knew the demon did so regularly. There was no look of peace on his face this time. His brow was furrowed, his mouth set in a frown, like he was sleeping out of spite. Perhaps he was. Still, Aziraphale liked to watch the way his chest was rising and falling with slow, even breaths. 

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said quietly, knowing the words wouldn’t wake the demon. 

It had been a stupid fight. They both said the wrong thing. If Crowley needed space, then the angel would grant it to him, even if it hurt. 

“Take all the time you need, dear boy,” Aziraphale murmured, reaching out to run his fingers softly through Crowley’s hair. 

He pulled his hand back quickly when the demon shifted in his sleep. 

“ _ Angel _ ,” Crowley breathed.

Aziraphale’s heart stopped. For a moment he thought that Crowley had woken up, but the demon just shifted, his face melting into a more relaxed expression as he burrowed himself further into the blankets. 

The angel swallowed hard. He needed to go. He needed to let Crowley heal on his own, and in the meantime he needed to get his own emotions under control. 

“Come back to me soon,” Aziraphale said, allowing himself one more moment of weakness. “I hope you know how much I--

He cut himself off. He’d already taken this further than he should. He’d gotten what he came for. Crowley was safe. For now, that was more than enough. 

**2019: Just After the Apoca--oops**

“You’re going to what?” Aziraphale asked, glad he had just set down his wine or he would have spilled it all down his front. 

“I’m going to take a nap,” Crowley said, frowning. “What, is that a problem?” 

Aziraphale wasn’t sure how to answer that. They’d only just stopped the Apocalypse and gotten both sides to back off and leave them alone. They’d had a celebratory lunch at the Ritz and retired to the bookshop to put away a couple bottles of wine. Aziraphale had hoped now that they were, in a sense, free, that they could perhaps finally talk about all the things they’d had to keep under wraps. Aziraphale blanched when he realized he didn’t even know how Crowley felt. Oh goodness, what if he’d been pining away like a fool and the demon didn’t feel a thing?

No, no he knew that Crowley loved him, at least in some sense of the word. And there was a time, centuries ago, when Aziraphale had been hit with the force of Crowley’s love so strongly he had almost been knocked over by it. But that was so long ago. What if he didn’t feel like that anymore? Oh there was so much they needed to talk about, but not if Crowley was going to go to sleep for who knows how long!

“It’s...rather sudden is all,” Aziraphale said lamely. 

Crowley ran a hand through his hair, shrugging. 

“Is it? We just saved the world. I’m knackered. Aren’t you knackered?” the demon asked. “Besides, it’s only a little nap. What’s the harm?”

“Last time you took a nap it lasted nearly a century,” Aziraphale said quietly. 

Crowley’s eyes widened and Aziraphale’s stomach dropped. Oh dear. He wasn’t meant to know that, was he? Crowley never talked about what he did during their time apart back then. Aziraphale only knew because he’d gone to check on him. A detail he had conveniently kept to himself with the intention of never informing Crowley about it. Now he’d gone and blabbed. Perhaps he’d had more wine than he thought if his lips were that loose. 

“Angel...How do you kn--

“A nap sounds lovely, dear!” Aziraphale said hastily, refilling both their glasses and pointedly not looking at his friend. 

Crowley opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but seemed to think better of it and took a long sip of his wine instead. 

When he finally left the bookshop, Crowley pulled Aziraphale into a hug. After a moment of surprise, Aziraphale melted against him, his arms coming up around the demon. They did just save the world. If anyone deserved a hug, or twenty, it was the two of them. 

“I promise I won’t sleep for long,” Crowley muttered. 

Aziraphale blushed and pulled away. Mercifully, he managed to stay quiet, waving at Crowley awkwardly as he walked down the front steps to the Bentley. 

As soon as the door to the shop, Aziraphale collapsed against it. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and shook his head, wondering how many more years he would spend making a complete fool of himself. 

**Present Day**

Aziraphale got to his feet, straightening his bowtie. 

Not this time. 

This time, he wasn’t going to sit around longing for Crowley to wake up and come to him. It was his turn to be brave. 

Lockdown be damned. 

He was done waiting. 


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale hated arriving anywhere unannounced. He tried very hard not to do so. In fact, the few times he’d done it over his six thousand years on Earth, Crowley was always involved; the time he checked up on Crowley during his long nap, the time he’d popped up in the Bentley to deliver the holy water, and, well, this very moment. 

Considering the entirety of London was meant to be in lockdown, Aziraphale wagered it was the lesser of two evils to simply pop himself into Crowley’s flat. Afterall, he didn’t want to give any of the humans ideas about breaking their own quarantine should they see him waltzing down the street. 

While Aziraphale had appeared in Crowley’s front room with a purpose, he found that now he was there he was nervous. Instead of going straight for the demon’s bedroom, he took his time looking around. 

Armageddon had been averted almost exactly a year ago, but Aziraphale hadn’t spent time in Crowley’s flat since that night before they swapped bodies. He frowned at the thought. That didn’t seem right. Perhaps the reason they spent most of their time together at his bookshop was because it was familiar to them both. Crowley on the sofa, Aziraphale in his chair, and several bottles of wine between the two of them. 

_ Perhaps he doesn’t want you here _ .

Aziraphale waved that thought away as soon as it appeared. There was no sense in thinking anything even remotely negative at the moment. He was here to tell Crowley how he felt and while he desperately hoped the demon felt the same, he knew it was better to save the wallowing and self pity for later. In case things didn’t go well and he needed to hide from Crowley for a century, or more, until the embarrassment wore off. 

Still, in case this was the last time he was going to be here for a while, Aziraphale saw no harm in looking around a bit. The living room looked the same as it had that night a year ago. Expect, the angel noted, there were several throw pillows on the couch that he was sure hadn’t been there. He ran his fingers over the one nearest him; a red cushion with a deep blue design. It was more colorful than anything he’d ever seen Crowley wear. More colorful than the rest of the flat. And soft. Very soft. Aziraphale smiled fondly at the thought that Crowley may finally be allowing himself some comfort. 

Next, he found his way to the kitchen. It was immaculate, like it had never been used. It probably hadn’t been, since Crowley didn’t have the same proclivity for food that Aziraphale did. What a shame to let such a beautiful kitchen go to waste. He opened a pair of double cupboard doors and his breath caught. 

Two. 

Crowley had two of everything. 

Plates, glasses, bowls, mugs. 

Everything was in twos. 

Aziraphale tried not to read too much into that. It was logical to have a backup of everything in case one something happened to the first one. It didn’t mean that Crowley kept an extra in case Aziraphale was around. 

Putting the kitchen behind him, the angel continued through the flat, intent on heading to the bedroom now. His mission was once again put on hold when he came across a room that was positively spilling over with plants. They were all gorgeous. Impeccably grown. But Aziraphale couldn’t help but note the feeling of mild terror that was radiating from the room. Or rather, the room’s inhabitants. The angel rolled his eyes, but it was almost fond. Only Crowley would get his plants to grow so perfectly by scaring the living daylights out of them. 

“You’re all lovely. Do try to relax a little and enjoy yourselves,” Aziraphale said quietly, reaching out to touch the leave of a nearby ficus. 

There was nothing left to stall Aziraphale as he found himself standing outside Crowley’s bedroom. The door was cracked open just slightly and Aziraphale’s hand shook as he pushed it open enough that he could slip inside. 

It was dark, but Aziraphale could perfectly see Crowley sleeping soundly under a heap of blankets. He was hugging a pillow close to his chest, no doubt drooling on it considering his mouth was wide open. He looked at ease and Aziraphale couldn’t bring himself to wake the demon. What had he been thinking? This was a terrible idea. He should--

“S’creepy to watch someone sleep, angel.”

Aziraphale flinched in surprise, letting out a truly undignified squeak. 

Crowley groggily pushed himself to sit up and Aziraphale, desperate for something to do with his hands, snapped his fingers to turn the lights on. The demon groaned, covering his eyes.

“Ugh, a little warning next time,” he groused. 

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale said quickly, eyes focused on Crowley’s bear chest. The demon seemed to notice his state of undress and waved a hand at his torso, making a black silk pajama top appear. Aziraphale avoided looking at him, fixing his bow tie even though he knew it was on perfectly straight. 

“You always did like watching me sleep,” Crowley said with a shrug. 

Aziraphale sputtered. 

“I-I beg your pardon?” he asked. 

Crowley blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but quickly recovered.

“Eden. You used to watch me nap,” he said simply. 

Aziraphale felt relief wash over him. Right. Eden. That was fine then. So long as Crowley didn’t know about that one time in 1909 after their row in the park, he was safe. Silence settled between them, but it wasn’t the uncomfortable kind. The angel took a moment to look around the room. It had been updated since 1909 for sure, but the configuration was the same. So far as Aziraphale could tell there was nothing new aside from the bedding. Except for what looked like a small piece of a stained glass window that was mounted on the wall above Crowley’s bed. 

“Is that...is that from a church?” he asked, taking a few steps for closer inspection. 

“Uh, might be, yeah,” Crowley said nonchalantly, though he looked nervous. 

“Doesn’t it hurt? Having a piece of something Holy in your bedroom?” Aziraphale asked. 

Crowley shook his head. 

“Not attached to the church anymore is it? Whole thing blew up,” he said, snapping his mouth shut when he realized he’d said too much. 

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. 

“Crowley, is this from--

“No,” Crowley said quickly. “Had it for ages. Long before that mess with the Nazis.” 

Aziraphale frowned. He could swear the stained glass was part of a rather lovely window from the church Crowley had marched into to get him out of trouble. 

“But you didn’t have it in 1909 and unless you make a habit of walking into churches about to be blown up then--

“How do you know I didn’t have it in 1909?” Crowley asked. 

Had Aziraphale possessed the ability to smite himself, he would have done so. Years he’d kept that secret under wraps and he let it fly only because he wanted to prove himself right about the window being from the church where Crowley had saved him. You know what that was? Pride. That was a deadly sin. Surely the Almighty should smite him immediately. As always there was radio silence from Her. The one time Aziraphale wouldn’t mind getting reprimanded.

Crowley was looking at him expectantly and since it appeared there wouldn’t be any sort of divine intervention, he was going to have to tell him. 

“I may have popped in to check on you during that long nap you took. After our... _ disagreement  _ in Saint James Park,” Aziraphale confessed, wringing his hands in front of him. 

Crowley arched a brow. 

“Seems you’ve made a habit of breaking into my flat,” he said, though he didn’t sound angry. If anything he sounded amused. 

“It was only the one time! Well, and--and this time, I suppose,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley looked deep in thought for a moment before his eyes went wide. 

“I remember. You apologized for the fight. You touched my hair,” he said softly, running a hand absently through his hair as if to illustrate the point. From the far off look on his face, Aziraphale wasn’t sure the demon even realized he’d done it. 

“I-I was worried about you. We hadn’t gone that long without seeing each other in decades at least and I wanted to make sure you were alright,” Aziraphale told him. Now that it was out in the open, he found he couldn’t stop himself. “I’m dreadfully sorry. I know it was an invasion of your privacy and I shouldn’t have touched--

“You told me to come back to you soon,” Crowley said, wonder in his voice as his eyes cleared and he fixed his gaze on the angel again. “I thought that was a dream.” 

Aziraphale shifted from foot to foot anxiously. 

“No, not a dream.”

Silence settled between them again, slightly less comfortable this time. Aziraphale didn’t know what to say. He’d gone over to Crowley’s with the intention of telling him exactly how much he missed him when he slept and how he was terribly fond of him. But all the things he’d thought he might say over the years, notes he’d written down, and poems too on several drunken occasions, had gone from his mind. 

“Did you come here for a reason, angel? Or were you just planning to watch me sleep again?” Crowley asked.

Aziraphale was certain he must be blushing to the tips of his toes. 

“W-well I, um---I...you have two of everything!” he shouted. 

Crowley jumped slightly, surprised by the sudden outburst. 

“What?” he asked. 

Aziraphale was panicking. That wasn’t what he meant to say. What a horrible way to start out a love confession! But he couldn’t get the image of Crowley’s kitchen cupboards and drawers out of his mind. Everything, two by two. 

“In your kitchen. You’ve got two of everything. Plates, wine glasses, forks. You don’t even eat! Not unless I’m here, b-but I’m never here. Why am I never here?” he asked, heart racing. 

Crowley opened his mouth, presumably to answer the question the angel had just thrown at him, but Aziraphale continued on his nonsensical tear. 

“I’ll tell you why. Because we’re always at my shop. But you keep two of everything just in case a-and I, oh my dear, I’m not sure what to  _ do _ with that information. If it means what I think it means, then I feel my heart may actually burst from happiness. I-if it doesn’t and you don’t, goodness me how do humans do this,” Aziraphale paused for a breath, his hand over his heart. 

“How is it possible to feel so many things at once?” he continued. “And to feel all of them for one person! Well, one demon. Oh heavens, angels weren’t built for this. O-or I suppose we were since we’re beings of love but--

Aziraphale stopped talking, but only because there were two fingers pressed to his lips. Funny, he didn’t remember Crowley being close enough to do such a thing. But he was. In fact he was close enough that Aziraphale could feel the demon’s breath on his face, hear the answering thrum of another rapidly beating heart. 

“Let me get this straight,” Crowley said slowly. “It took you coming over here and having a snoop through my cupboards to figure out that I--that I--well, you know don’t you? Without me having t-to say the actual words?” he asked.

Aziraphale shook his head. 

“No. No, dear boy, I’ve known for a long time. But I wasn’t sure if you  _ still _ felt that way. After all I could hardly expect you to wait around forever for me to catch up to you,” Aziraphale said. 

Crowley nodded, reaching out to tug at Aziraphale’s bowtie. 

“I’d have waited forever. If that’s what it took,” he murmured, cheeks pink. 

Aziraphale shivered when Crowley’s fingers brushed against his neck.

“O-oh. That’s good then,” he said stupidly. 

Crowley smiled, a shy little thing and moved in so close their noses touched. 

“You could have just waited for me to wake up. Wasn’t going to sleep for that long,” Crowley teased. 

Aziraphale huffed. 

“Yes, well, I was afraid I would lose my nerve and I--

Crowley cut him off, closing the last of the distance between them and finally pressing a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s lips. It was chaste, but Crowley lingered for a long moment, thumb brushing Aziraphale’s cheek before he pulled away. 

“Was that alright?” he asked shyly. “Not too fast was it?”

Aziraphale shook his head, looping his arms around Crowley’s waist and pulling him in so they were pressed flush together. 

“If anything, dearest, it may not be fast enough.” 

Aziraphale wasn’t exactly sure how it happened, but one minute he was standing next to the bed and the next he was flat on his back with his head against the pillows with a very sexy demon straddling his thighs. 

“Oh,” Aziraphale breathed. 

Crowley grinned down at him before kissing him fiercely. Now that he’d been given the green light, Crowley’s shyness seemed to have faded and was replaced by raw passion. Not that Aziraphale had any complaints. He may not have been waiting for this quite as long as Crowley had, but he was more than ready to get the proverbial show on the road. 

Aziraphale had decided to, uh,  _ make the effort _ centuries ago. He found that trousers just didn’t fit as right without anything going on in the downstairs area. Not to mention it had other uses. Pleasurable ones that Aziraphale had admittedly been eager to explore. But now he was going to do it with  _ Crowley _ and oh, that thought had him getting hard so quickly he was dizzy. He couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed when he felt an answering hardness rubbing against his own. 

Aziraphale broke the kiss, hushing Crowley when he whined, and making up for it by trailing kisses down the demon’s neck. 

“Tell me what you want, dearest,” Aziraphale murmured, kissing behind Crowley’s ear. “Anything you want, I promise I’ll give it you.” 

Crowley let out a soft sound, pressing his hips more insistently against Aziraphale’s. 

“E-everything. I want everything,” he said hastily, his voice already wrecked. 

Aziraphale tutted at him. 

“Not specific enough. Come on, darling. Tell me,” Aziraphale prompted, smoothing his hands down Crowley’s back. 

Crowley swallowed hard, yellow eyes fixed on Aziraphale. 

“Touch me,” he said quietly, almost like it was a question. 

Aziraphale pushed himself up, kissing Crowley soundly for a moment, but pulling away before either of them got too distracted. 

“Of course,” Aziraphale said, giving his hips a squeeze. “On your knees, if you wouldn’t mind.” 

Crowley nearly fell off the bed in his eagerness to comply with Aziraphale’s demand. Well, more of a request than a demand, but Crowley’s reaction was...interesting. Perhaps that was something they could explore later, Aziraphale thought giddily.  _ Later _ . 

Aziraphale pressed in close behind him and slid his hand up the front of Crowley’s shirt, his fingers finding one of his nipples and giving it a pinch. Crowley hummed, wriggling against him and oh that was lovely. In his enthusiasm to give Crowley what he wanted, he’d almost forgotten he was hard himself. But now, with Crowley’s ass grinding back against him, he remembered. Aziraphale pulled the back of Crowley’s shirt down and pushed his hair out of the way to nibble at the upper most knob of his spine, grinning when the demon jolted hard. 

“ _ Please _ ,” Crowley whined. 

“Patience, love,” Aziraphale soothed, though he took pity on the demon and slipped his hand down the front of his pajama pants.

“Nothing underneath?” he mused, biting hard at Crowley’s shoulder as his fingers circled around his cock. 

“U-underwear is constricting,” Crowley groaned. 

Well, Aziraphale couldn’t argue with that. Considering the trousers Crowley usually wore, which left very little to the imagination, he figured there wasn’t any extra room for undergarments. Before the angel could continue, Crowley was yanking his hand out of his pants and pressing it to his mouth. He licked at the palm of Aziraphale’s hand, forked tongue circling his fingers, before shoving the angel’s hand back into his pants when he’d gotten it sufficiently wet. 

“Better?” Aziraphale asked, feeling a little dazed himself. 

Crowley nodded, soft, breathless sounds sliding past his lips as he thrust into Aziraphale’s grip. One of his hands was balled into a fist around the sheets, his other one flying back to hold onto Aziraphale’s hip when the angel suddenly sped up. Crowley was beautiful like this, thrusting unabashedly into Aziraphale’s hand, his head tipped back against the angel’s shoulder. 

“O-oh, it feels...” Crowley trailed off with a groan when Aziraphale tangled his fingers in the demon’s hair and tipped his head to the side so he could mouth at his jaw. 

“Good?” Aziraphale asked. 

“Pull,” Crowley said by way of answer. 

It took Aziraphale a second to register what he was asking for, before he smiled and curled his fingers tighter in Crowley’s hair, giving a sharp tug that had the demon whimpering as he shuddered against him. 

“I love you,” Crowley said softly, thrusting harder into the grip of Aziraphale’s fingers. “Love you so much. For so long now, angel. I--

“I know,” Aziraphale said, moving his hips against Crowley desperately. “I love you too, darling.” 

“M’close,” Crowley gasped, fingers gripping Aziraphale’s thigh so hard there were sure to be bruises. 

Aziraphale was surprised when he realized how close he was as well. All his focus had been on Crowley, but between watching the demon lose control and the steady rhythm of Crowley grinding against him, he was right on the edge himself. 

“M-me too,” Aziraphale managed through gritted teeth, pulling hard on Crowley’s hair again and tipping his head back far enough to press a sloppy kiss to the demon’s mouth.

Crowley moaned, loud and unashamedly, as he spilled over Aziraphale’s fingers. Aziraphale had only a moment to appreciate the sight of the demon before he was coming as well, crushing Crowley to him with the arm he had around his waist and pressing his forehead to the space between Crowley’s shoulder blades. 

It took a long while for Aziraphale to come back to himself, but when he did, he was laying next to Crowley, the demon stroking his hair. 

“There you are,” Crowley said fondly, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead. 

“I’m sorry, dear. I seem to have--

“It’s okay. I understand. Six thousand years of tension finally boiling over. It was...intense,” he said. 

Aziraphale nodded. 

“It was. But it was lovely...wasn’t it?” he asked, suddenly worried. 

Crowley rolled his eyes and snuggled closer, resting his head on Aziraphale’s chest and throwing a leg over his hips. 

“ _ More _ than lovely, angel. I expect to be woken up from every nap just like that,” he mumbled, yawning and rubbing sleepily at his eyes. Ah, yes. Aziraphale had almost forgotten about the nap he’d interrupted. 

“Sleep, dearest. I’ll be here when you wake up,” Aziraphale murmured, wrapping his arms around the demon and holding him close. 

“Mmm, you better be,” Crowley said, words sleep slurred in a way that Aziraphale found ridiculously endearing. 

Aziraphale closed his eyes, feeling more relaxed than he ever had in his very long life, warm and content with Crowley sprawled on top of him. 

For the first time in six thousand years...

Aziraphale slept. 


End file.
